


serving tea (moving on)

by klixxy



Series: tea server zuko au [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Child Abuse, Flashbacks, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, Not Canon Compliant, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Past Abuse, Tea Server Zuko, Zuko (Avatar) Angst, Zuko is an Awkward Turtleduck, au where zuko gave up on capturing aang long before he met him, au where zuko is just a tea boy, azula is just psycho, poor Zuko, soft tea boi with ptsd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21882595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klixxy/pseuds/klixxy
Summary: He’d given up chasing the Avatar years and years and years ago.Given up chasing after the praise of his father long before that.Given up fearing fire months after.......He’s long since given up on finding the Avatar.But it seems like the Avatar has found him.
Relationships: Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: tea server zuko au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801363
Comments: 57
Kudos: 3969
Collections: Finished111, Quality Fics, The Best of Zuko





	serving tea (moving on)

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: CHILD ABUSE, VIOLENCE, PTSD
> 
> idk guys, i hope you guys at least like my half-hearted writer's block overcoming failure,,,

Zuko doesn’t think much of them when they first walk into the Jasmine Dragon. Sure, they’re a weird bunch; one of them is bald and is trying ridiculously hard (and failing) to keep a wig to cover a strange, blue tattoo on his forehead, one of them is trying way too hard to be inconspicuous as his blue eyes squint around the tea shop, his hands twitching towards a way-too-obvious bulge in his satchel as if expecting, or, Agni-forbid, waiting eagerly, for someone to attack him, and the other one is arguing loudly, not even trying to hide the proud blue colors that show her as part of the Water Tribe in a sea of Earth Kingdom greens.

Yeah, he considers, they’re pretty weird.

Still, he’s seen a whole lot weirder customers from his time serving as a waiter _(and of course, nothing could ever hurt him more than the hands, coming down on his face in the middle of an Agni Kai, hands that he is so, painfully familiar with, hands that bring forth fire upon his skin until all he can feel is the fire, the fire, **the fire-** )._

He thinks that he can deal with these immature teens.

He serves them.

They obviously don’t have a single clue about tea because they’re ordering all the wrong ones, so Zuko does something that he, three years ago, would have scoffed at, that Azula, all those years ago, would have laughed at, scorned at, that his father, even when perhaps he had still loved him, would have hit him for. 

He talks to them.

He smiles at them politely and even lets himself recommend his favorite brews.

And so they end up ordering ginseng, after the blue-eyed guy and his sister have a very, very long-winded argument about which tea to order despite having not known how to even pronounce the names of the brews that they are arguing about just seconds prior.

_(Maybe Azula and he could have been like this. Maybe they could have bantered easily about who got the top bunk, could have challenged each other amiably to out-do the other in firebending. Maybe they could have shared all of their little secrets and gasped dramatically, gathered out of bed in the middle of the night. Maybe they could planned mischievous pranking schemes and started a prank war with each other. Maybe they could have snickered together and argued together and shared food together and cried together and endured their father’s rage together. Maybe they could have supported each other and helped each other and loved each other._

_But Zuko knows that that had always been a ‘what-if’, a dream, if you will. Zuko knows that Azula doesn’t love him in half the way these siblings sitting in front of him in his Uncle’s tea shop love each other. Perhaps she had, for a fleeting moment, back when she was two and he was four, when her chubby little cheeks had pulled into a cute little smile while he tried to get her to call him ‘Zuko’, while she kept on babbling happily: ‘Zuzu! Zuzu!’. Perhaps she had cared, for just a second, when he would have done anything to protect her, his precious little sister. But no matter how much she may have loved him then, he knows that anything that she might’ve felt in those years before she can remember are long gone now.)_

So.

They order the ginseng.

He heads back to the kitchen and he grabs a teapot, grabs the ginseng herbs carefully placed together in a pile and gets the hot water pitcher, careful not to touch the steaming metal parts. He pours, then he lifts the teapot and swirls it, just right. Then, he carefully places the ginseng leaves into the pot, pouring more hot water in. Unnoticeably, he heats the whole teapot just a little more, letting the ginseng leaves melt just a little and squeeze out just a little more flavour. Letting out a vaguely hot breath, he places down the teapot on the counter. He lets it steep.

When it’s done, he serves it.

He feels a twinge of pride when the strange teenagers drink his tea and their eyes immediately widen. The pretending-not-to-be-bald kid’s eyebrows shoot sky-high, almost disappearing into the shaggy hair of his wig. Zuko almost laughs as they immediately try to drink more, which causes the blue-eyed-idiot to go reeling back as his tongue is burnt, letting out a high-pitched whine of pain, fanning his bright red tongue.

It’s nice to know that he truly is no longer just Banished Prince Zuko, the useless, traitor son of Fire Lord Ozai. Here, in this tea shop, he is just Li. He is just a normal teenager, serving tea with his old Uncle.

The strange children finally finish talking loudly about his tea and call him over, ready to pay. He puts out the bill onto the countertop, eyebrows furrowing as he hears blue-eyed-idiot let out a groan that sounds suspiciously like “Ughhhhh, so much moneyyyyy”. And then he’s leaning forwards, shimmering cobalt blue eyes narrowed and in Zuko’s face. His breath smells vaguely of tea leaves and animal fur.

“Hey, do you know who that guy is?” He says, and for a moment, Zuko is confused as to who he means by ‘that guy’. It turns out that ‘that guy’ is not-bald-guy, because blue-eyes is pointing straight at him. Zuko just blinks, staring at the sheepish face of not-bald-guy, hearing Water-Tribe-girl heave a sigh.

“Sokka-” She starts, but blue-eyes- no, Sokka is already speaking.

“That guy’s name is Aang, and he’s the Avatar!” He announces, and Zuko feels as if he has been turned to ice. “He’s gonna beat up Fire Lord Asshole, he’s gonna end the war, and then he’s gonna save the world!” Sokka yells excitedly, somehow unable to see the way Zuko is frozen in his tracks, the way Zuko is finding it harder and harder to breathe, the way the temperature just dropped a couple degrees.

“So… if you could maybe lower the price a little-” Whatever Sokka says next, Zuko drowns out. His heart is thumping loudly in his ears as if he has just ran a million miles, and his hands are trembling so hard he thinks that the ground is shaking. Heat rises up from his chest and crawls up his throat and his scar throbs so hard that it feels as if his father’s hands- rough, calloused, scarred, familiar hands- are wrapped around his eye again, so long ago, the crowd gone deathly silent as they watch a son beg and plead in front of his father, Azula cruel laughter roaring in his ears as fire touches his face. It burns and burns, searing at his skin, scorching at his eye, his cheek as if Agni himself has come down to punish him. The hand only grips tighter as the pain, the pain, _the pain_ washes over his body, even as his weak fingers scrabble for purchase against his father’s arm as he _burns off his face_ , even as out of his mouth tumbles screams he cannot hear through the crackle of the fire against his skin, the smell of burnt flesh that chokes his lungs. The world fades in and out and his vision goes black and white to so saturated that he feels as if his retinas will burn with the sheer sight of it all. Azula’s laugh echoes through his mind, reverberating in his chest as it bounces around his empty thoughts, only distracted by the long, long train of _hurt, pain, suffering, tears, screams, the animalistic, instinctual urge to **getaway.** _

He will never forget his father’s face as he let go, letting his son- his only son crumple to the ground, screaming, writhing in pain, hands bloody and stained with the tang of iron, half of his vision gone, one of his ears so terribly mangled it will never heal properly again, his pride, his joy, his _childhood_ shattered and ripped to shreds.

His father hadn’t looked regretful, remorseful, or even rageful.

Instead, he had just looked disgusted.

“Hey… hey…. hey! LI!” A voice stirs him from the strange, trance-like state he had gone into. He flinches at the loud volume, shrinking backwards unconsciously as he stares at the _Avatar_. His grey eyes are wide and welcoming, filled with concern. His nose his broad and wide, his mouth pulled down into a little frown. He looks ready to throw down everything to help, should Zuko needs it.

And Zuko knows that he looks terrified. He _is_ terrified. He doesn’t know of what- maybe the Avatar, this little, naive little twelve-year-old _child_ , maybe of the stares of the customers, boring into his back, maybe the onslaught of memories he tries to suppress.

Because in front of him is the very Avatar he had been ordered to capture, the very Avatar he had spent so much of his childhood searching for, resenting, raging at. The very Avatar whose name slips from his Father’s vengeful lips in his nightmares like poison, a venomous snake, searing his eye off with acid. 

Something dangerously close to resembling bile- or perhaps ashes, like the ashes of his scarred face, ashes in the place where his mother used to be, ashes, the only thing left of his innocence- climbs up his throat, pawing at the back of his tongue and washing his mouth with a bitter, metallic taste. He has to concentrate on holding back the urge to throw up, to scream, cry, tremble in fear, letting fire erupt from his fingers in desperation.

Instead, his voice shakes as he speaks, ignoring the concerned way that the three teenagers _( **the Avatar and his friends,** his brain reminds him. **Shut up,** he hisses back, swallowing down another mouthful of bile and memories. **You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher.** His father’s voice roars in his mind.)_ Ignoring that way that the three teenagers stare at him as if he is something fragile that will break down at any moment _(and perhaps he will- he certainly feels as if he will, as if his Father’s calloused, cruel hands will reach down at any moment and accuse him of treachery, burning the other side of his face as well, but this time, he doesn’t stop at the skin, doesn’t stop until the skeletal remains of his skull disintegrate to ash amongst his son’s haunting screams-)_

“Please pay your bill.” Is all he manages to choke out around the ash in his mouth, holding back the heat that builds beneath his eyelids. The teacups in the tray in his hands clink against each other, trembling rapidly as his arms only shake harder. The bald one _(The Avatar, the Avatar, the Avatar-)_ looks as if he is a second away from jumping to his feet and helping Zuko, but that is the last thing that Zuko needs, he needs his Uncle, needs to regain his breath, needs to banish _( **Poor, Banished Prince Zuko,** Azula teases in his mind, **never to regain his honor. Never to be truly happy. Pathetic.** )_ these terrible thoughts, these fire-filled memories from his mind. The Watertribe girl must see the panic in his eyes, the fear in his gaze as he stares at _(he’s just a kid, just a kid, just a kid, not the Avatar, the Avatar-)_. She bolts up in her seat and hands over the money without question, wide, worried blue eyes searching his own. 

He almost drops his serving tray- something that he hasn’t done in a very, very long time, since the very first day he ever started working as a tea server _(he’s not Banished Prince Zuko, he is **not** , he is Li, Li, Li, not Zuko-)_. And then the next thing he knows he is shoving the three teenagers out the door, even while his entire body shakes and the flames in his chest simmers and roars, burning uncomfortably _( **Find the Avatar. Only then may you come home and restore your honor.** A cruel hand tightens painfully around his wrist. He tries to flinch away, but his father only grips tighter and tighter and tighter-)._

And then they are gone.

They’re gone.

He stumbles back, disbelieving, unwilling to believe- _( **Azula was born lucky. You were lucky to be born.** ) _

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

_No._

He’d given up chasing the Avatar years and years and years ago. Given up chasing after the praise of his father long before that. Given up fearing fire months after.

He is just a simple tea server _( **Azula always lies, Azula always lies, Azula always lies-** , flinching at any movement in the shadows of the night-)_, he isn’t trying to capture the Avatar _(just a twelve-year-old child-)._

He’s long since given up on finding the Avatar.

But it seems like the Avatar has found him.

He stumbles away, hands fumbling with the wooden walls of the tea shop for support, vision half-blurry with terror, adrenaline racing in his veins and turning everything red. Panic rages in his mind. _( **Never forget who you are, Zuko.** His mother, his mother, his mother, gone, gone, gone, leaving him with cruel, vile Azula and **Father-** )_ He barely manages to get to his room, collapsing to the floor in front of his bathroom basin before what is left of his lunch comes hurling up his throat, burning tears staining his eyes _(no, just eye singular, because the hand- his father's hand burned the other one, left it sightless and useless, never to see again-)._

The Avatar.

He doesn’t want to capture the Avatar.

He doesn’t want to lose sight of himself again.

He doesn’t want to become _Zuko_ again.

_(Hands, coming around, tightening around his skin as he tenses in fear- this is his punishment, his punishment, he is never good enough, never strong enough, fast enough, smart enough- he screams, wails, the terrible sounds welling up from some, broken part of him as flames encircle the hands holding him down, and it **burns**. Burns like all those other times before, like all those other times he just wasn’t. Good. Enough. He would never be good enough, never be as good as Azula- Azula is laughing, she’s laughing as he cries, laughing as he screams for mercy, his father is smiling- it is the first time Zuko has ever seen him smile- Azula’s hands are small, thin, delicate as they burn the skin on his back, his little sister. his precious little sister who torments him as if he is nothing but trash, but he **is** nothing but trash isn’t he? Never good enough, never good enough, never good enough-)_

He cries.

He cries and sobs and lets the tears burn trails down his cheeks as he retches weakly above the basin, watching as droplets of his misery drip into his own, disgusting vomit. _( **Weak, weak, weak,** some part of his brain tells him.)_

This is ridiculous, him, reduced to nothing but a writhing ball of misery, of tears and vomit and pain after just a single encounter with the Avatar. 

He barely registers the sound of his Uncle walking into the bathroom.

No. 

He wants his Uncle to go away, wants his Uncle to ignore the way he is broken, shattered. He doesn’t want his sweet, sweet Uncle to see him like this. _(And some part of him is scared- scared that his Uncle will see him as weak, worthless, that he will not want anything to do with such a weak nephew, that he will hurt him, will punish him for breaking down like this- even when he knows that his Uncle would never do that, his Uncle would never bring his kind, loving hands to touch his cheek and then set fire to his skin, watching without a sliver of remorse as Zuko claws desperately as his face, screaming wretchedly, begging, praying for mercy, for Agni to reign down upon him and let him **die-** )_

Instead, his Uncle kneels next to him gently, his face a picture of grief, of sorrow as he watches this boy he thinks of as his second son flinch away from his touch as if he is frightened of this man he trusts more than anything. Iroh sighs, blinking away the rage he feels at his brother building in his chest. 

Instead, he sings quietly as he cards his hands through Zuko’s hair, pulling his smooth black locks back and away from his face, still stained with tears and pain and vomit, letting his nephew retch into the basin, patting his back carefully. It goes on for what seems like forever, until his arms starts to cramp from being held up for so long, until his legs start to fall asleep, going numb beneath him. The earthen floor of the bathroom feels cold beneath Iroh’s bare feet.

And yet, Iroh stays.

He does not complain or shift.

Instead, he smiles.

After Zuko is done vomiting, after there is nothing left to vomit out, Iroh makes him a cup of tea- his favorite, the Dragon Lily Petal tea, a special Jasmine Dragon blend. 

Zuko is disassociated with the world, lost in his mind, lost in his memories, staring down emptily at the golden water, his cheeks puffy and his golden eyes rimmed red.

His scar throbs.

“Zuko,” His Uncle says, startling him out of his revere, his old eyes crinkling as he smiles. His eyes are golden, much like his father, like Azula, like all other firebenders, burning down innocents across the world. But instead of being full of cold malice like his father, cruel violence, like his sister, or stony determination, like the Fire Nation soldiers, they hold warmth. Kindness. In that moment, Zuko thinks that his father, despite being one of the strongest firebenders in the nation, is weak. In that moment, Zuko thinks that Iroh is the wisest man in the world.

In that moment, Zuko makes his decision.

“Zuko, are you okay?” His Uncle asks him, tone just as gentle as his words.

Zuko closes his eyes, thinking of his father’s cruel face, his cruel orders, his emotionless voice as he commands things that would kill hundreds of thousands of his own soldiers. 

He thinks of his hand, on his face, burning the skin around his only son’s eye, ruining his sight and his hearing forever.

 _I am not my father’s son,_ Zuko thinks to himself as he lets himself lean on his Uncle for support, the cup of tea relaxing and warm in his fingers. The face of the bald kid from before comes to mind; wide, naive, kind grey eyes, an open smile, cheeks still chubby with baby fat.

_I will not harm the Avatar._

“I’m okay, Uncle.” Zuko says, smiling quietly into the warm folds of his Uncle’s clothes. His Uncle smells like tea, honey and a faint trace of smoke. As his Uncle’s arms come around, slightly surprised but happy nonetheless, to hug him, Zuko thinks that this is where he truly belongs.

Someday, he knows that destiny will pull him elsewhere. He knows that someday he will end up facing his demons, facing his family. He knows that someday he will have to return home to put an end to his monsters, to fight his father. He knows that someday he will encounter the Avatar again, that he will have to help him, maybe even teach him firebending, help him defeat the Fire Lord.

He knows.

But for now, Zuko knows that here, with Iroh is where he was always supposed to end up.

Ozai is not his father.

He lost that right a long, long time ago.

_I am not my father’s son._

“I’m alright, Uncle.” He utters, letting out a steamy breath as the fire in his chest settles, as the storm in his mind calms.

“I’ve never been better.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all! thanks for reading! <3333333
> 
> i made a Tumblr blog for my writing. i have no clue what I'm doing or how Tumblr works at all in general but i'd appreciate it if you guys could go follow it??? or just check it out maybe lol
> 
> https://klixxy.tumblr.com/
> 
> (idk how to link things on here, so SUSH! just copy and paste it or whatever)


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